


The Vein and The Pulse

by flamingosarepink



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Inspired by Art, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingosarepink/pseuds/flamingosarepink
Summary: It isn’t as if Claudio knows they shouldn’t be here together, given the ramifications. But he has long since given himself over to the emotions he shouldn’t have. He has long given himself over to the ghosts of a life that he left behind.Quite simply, it’s much too late to ponder on it now.No turning back.This is the one remnant of a different time that Claudio firmly refuses to give up. Firmly holding on, unrelenting.
Relationships: Paulo Dybala/Claudio Marchisio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	The Vein and The Pulse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ibarbourou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibarbourou/gifts), [legolasass (scuderiafiatpanda)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scuderiafiatpanda/gifts).



> I’ve been taking a break from writing, then some stuff happened that left me unable to write. Then after seeing a picture that Claudio posted of himself in Rome added to the interactions Paulo and Claudio have had on social media recently I was struck with an idea. To my friends Celeste and Sammy. Celeste, I said I’d do it and I did! I can’t accurately express what our friendship means to me. Thank you for everything. Sammy, thank you for your advice and for being my friend! You helping me through this means everything to me. The title of the fic is taken from the song Get Out by Frightened Rabbit.

It isn’t as if Claudio knows they shouldn’t be here together, given the ramifications. But he has long since given himself over to the emotions he shouldn’t have. He has long given himself over to the ghosts of a life that he left behind. 

Quite simply, it’s much too late to ponder on it now.

No turning back.

This is the one remnant of a different time that Claudio firmly refuses to give up. Firmly holding on, unrelenting.

A Roman afternoon descends into a Roman evening, casting a golden glow over the city. That same golden glow is diffused by the curtains over the large window. Concealing, never giving up its secrets. Letting everything go on unknown.

Things happen as they never have. Quickly, and almost seemingly out of nowhere.

The trademark gentleness of past times clouded with a hint of desperation. Paulo in his lap, pressed flush against him. 

Kisses with a hint of teeth. Promises made as sacred as holy writ. Touches that are just hard enough to leave a reminder the next morning. The emotions clouding the air of the unfamiliar but otherwise comforting hotel room with its beige walls and frescoed ceiling that give a hint as to its glorious past. 

Everything unravels Claudio holds Paulo’s face in his hands as if he could will himself to never let go.

§

As he fully comes to his senses, the brightness of the mid-morning sun illuminates the room through a narrow slit where the curtains over the window do not touch. Hints of the night before are scattered about. Claudio’s suit jacket thrown over the back of a chair along with his dress shirt. A shirt which can only be Paulo’s discarded across the room on the floor along with his jeans. Claudio takes notice of Paulo next to him, sleep still having regarded the younger man favorably. Specifically, he takes notice of the strong lines of Paulo’s back. 

If there was any shame lurking at the surface, it has all but left by now. This should be the last time they see each other.

But Claudio knows it will be unlikely.

He knows that it will be unlikely as he settles back against the pillows, eyes closing as sleep overtakes him again.

**Author's Note:**

> _I'm in the arch of the church  
>  Between her thumb and her forefinger  
> I'm a worshipper  
> A zealot king, cursed, a devotee  
> Of the heady golden dance she does  
> She's an uncut drug  
> Find the vein and the pulse  
> Chased it and for a minute I was floating dead above myself  
> Get out of my heart  
> She won't, she won't  
> Get out of my heart  
> She won't, she won't  
> I saw a glimmer in the dark  
> And now I know she won't get out of my heart  
> She won't_
> 
> The piece of that served as further inspiration for this fic is the painting titled Il Bacio by Francesco Hayez.


End file.
